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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729437">something unpredictable</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess'>bellawritess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Time Low (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:)))), Alcohol, Bad Flirting, Fluff, High School, JOKING i'm joking, M/M, Prom, References to Home Alone Movies, School Dances, Shenanigans, Slow Dancing, all of them but especially jack's, also this fic requires you to forget the awful suit jack actually wore to prom, cheesy fluffy dumb shit, drunk jack and probably-sober zack, good flirting?, i literally only wrote this for me and adri, i mean i guess it's good flirting if it works so, im sorry i know WAY too much information about atl's high schools, maybe.......high school bathrooms are for lovers?, no hate to rihanna but pon de replay is an annoying song</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:14:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28729437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, here we are," Alex says, a sweeping gesture indicating the gym. "The quintessential high school experience."</p><p>OR: Prom, 2006. The boys go stag. Kind of.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Barakat/Zack Merrick, Rian Dawson/Alex Gaskarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. save a dance for me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalrock/gifts">petalrock</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704221">I Can't Say it Feels Wrong to Close My Eyes When All I See is You</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheye13/pseuds/Cheye13">Cheye13</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>god okay so. the first, and for a long time only, rilex fic i knew was <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704221">this fic</a> by Cheye13 (the one that inspired this fic, also linked ^^ up there). not joking when i say that is the fic that made me be like hmm......rilex may have some weight to it. i fucking love that fic, and the other night <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalrock">adri</a> asked me for rilex fics and i linked them to that fic, because i felt that they should start where i did. and then they read it and we both agreed that while it is a phenomenal fic we both very much wished that they had kissed.</p><p>and then i wrote this :)</p><p>cheye13 if you're reading this thank you for writing an amazing rilex fic which i then ripped off to write this. i promise i did not plagiarize you i just really wanted them to kiss</p><p>ALSO i started writing this and then i was like hey, this sure does have the potential to be both rilex AND merrikat. so chapter 1 is rilex and chapter 2 is merrikat because i simply do not do things in halves</p><p>tw for alcohol and, uh, bad or inaccurate representation of high school prom that is more reminiscent of teen movies than real life. sorry lmao in my defense i wrote this on my phone in bed at like 6am and no i had not gone to sleep yet</p><p>title from good riddance (time of your life) by green day :)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alex shifts on his feet. "Hey," he hears his own voice say, "um, hey, Ri…you wanna dance, maybe?"</p><p>Rian blinks at him. "Yeah," he says. "Okay." Then, "Except, uh, I don't think I know how to dance."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter title comes from The Line in the fic that inspired this one (please. PLEASE read that fic you will just Get Everything so much more if you do)</p><p>this one goes out to adri, you are a real one. arguably the realest</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Just imagine," Jack says loudly over the din as they enter. "One day that'll be us."</p><p>He points at the DJ on the stage playing aggressive pop music with unnecessary record scratches interpolated, like incorrect punctuation. </p><p>"You wanna be a DJ for a shitty high school prom?" Alex replies. Jack flips him off.</p><p>They all look and feel kind of stupid. But prom is one of those traditions you have to partake in or else you regret it the rest of your life, or so they say, and while it may not be very punk to bandwagon about prom of all things — well, nobody can be punk all the time. Even Rian, still cruising in his anarchist phase, had conceded to showing up.</p><p>The plan had been to go stag together, but that plan had quickly changed when a significant hiccup made itself known: Zack couldn't come to their prom except as a date. Despite an attendance to their history classes that was higher than some actual Dulaney students, he was technically enrolled at Towson, and that made him ineligible for prom on his own.</p><p>Which is how Jack ends up with a date.</p><p>(Alex had offered rock-paper-scissors for whose date he'd be, but Jack had just jumped in with, "It's cool, guys, I'll take him." With a sidelong glance at Zack, fluttering lashes and all: "Right, honey bunches?"</p><p>Zack had threatened to leave the band if Jack ever called him that again, but it'd been cute for a second.)</p><p>For all intents and purposes, though, they walk into the prom as four single guys. Jack's comment about the DJ is immediately followed by, "Come on, I'm like ninety percent sure the punch is already spiked," and he drags Zack away by the wrist, leaving Alex standing with Rian, just shy of the entrance.</p><p>"Well, here we are," Alex says, a sweeping gesture indicating the gym. "The quintessential high school experience."</p><p>"We are true American teens now," Rian deadpans.</p><p>"I think the only thing that would make this more classic would be hooking up in the bathroom or something," Alex jokes. Somehow it falls flat, but Rian laughs anyway out of solidarity.</p><p>"God, is this that fucking Rihanna song?" he says out of nowhere. Alex tunes into the music and nods. It <em> is </em>that fucking Rihanna song. He's a big enough fan of Rihanna that he can admit this song is annoying as shit. Maybe that's just because it's been on the radio nonstop for weeks, but Alex would probably rather surgically remove his eardrums before having to hear this song again.</p><p>Not that he really has that option.</p><p>"If they don't play something actually good, let's just bail," Alex says. He punches Rian's shoulder lightly, more of a brush of knuckles than anything. "Whatever, man. Let's go get some alcoholic beverages."</p><p>"Extremely non-alcoholic, you mean," Rian says, raising his eyebrows knowingly.</p><p>Alex follows this lead. "Right, the sobering effect of the punch, is what I meant."</p><p>"Obviously."</p><p>They snake their way around the perimeter of the dance floor, waving to teachers doubling as chaperones and friends grinding to the awful Rihanna song. It's stuffy in here and the acoustics are pretty trashy, which makes for a fantastic prom venue all in all. It's only been a couple minutes and Alex can already feel himself starting to sweat.</p><p>"Hey, where the fuck did Jack and Zack go?" Rian asks as they reach the drinks table. There's a teacher serving the punch, but Alex has no doubt it's spiked anyway. He grabs a cup for the both of them and flashes a smile to the teacher — probably a new guy, Alex doesn't recognize him — when they've both been served.</p><p>"No idea," he says, taking a drink from his cup. It burns with a hint of vodka. Alex laughs. Leave it to them to have spiked punch of all things. "Hooking up in the bathroom, I bet."</p><p>"What is it with you and hooking up in the bathroom?" Rian asks, rolling his eyes. "Are you trying to tell me something?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, obviously," says Alex. "You wanna hook up in the bathroom with me, Ri? I'll be gentle."</p><p>"Thanks, that's nice of you," Rian says dryly. "But I'm pretty sure you wouldn't need to be gentle since you haven't picked up a weight in about eight years."</p><p>"It's been at <em> least </em> ten," Alex counters, then flexes to prove his point. Or fails at flexing. The slightly-too-large sleeves of his tux jacket hide any lack of biceps he might have but he's sure they can both use their imagination. "No, seriously though. If I was a betting man…" He shrugs. "Jack and Zack, in the Dulaney bathroom — probably the one in the art hallway — with the awful tuxes."</p><p>"Are we playing Clue?"</p><p>"I'm saying it's not <em> unreasonable </em> to assume they're actually getting it on," Alex says. He wrinkles his nose. "Gross. Now I'm picturing it. Never mind. I regret everything. Come on. We need to do something or we'll just look lame."</p><p>They both finish their drinks, and by that time Rihanna has mercifully shut up and Green Day — blessed, blessed Green Day — has started up, a song Alex recognizes from its opening bars.</p><p>"Fuck yeah!" he whoops. In what is probably a moment of weakness he drags Rian out into the throng of classmates, many of whom have stopped grinding to exchange confused looks over why their grinding music has been replaced by this far superior but admittedly slower ballad by one of the greatest bands of all time. Must suck to have no taste at all, Alex thinks, smirking a little when he passes some underclassmen complaining about the shit song choice.</p><p>Rian stops and turns, dragging Alex to a halt as well. "Yo, what the fuck," says Rian, deadly serious, to the pair of probably-sophomore boys who look suddenly very intimidated. "You think this is shit? That <em> Pon de Replay </em> garbage from before, <em> that </em>was shit. This? Is fucking art. Try a little respect for the legends next time. It's fucking Green Day."</p><p>In the midst of a crowded school dance crooning with the voice of Billie Joe Armstrong, the ensuing silence is deafening. Finally one of the intimidated sophomores just nods. "Sorry," he adds.</p><p>Rian inclines his head and turns back to Alex, who is experiencing a lot of weird and unfamiliar feelings and one very overwhelming thought of <em> that was hot. </em> "Sorry," he apologizes, sounding more sincere than the sophomore had. "Gotta set 'em straight sometimes."</p><p>"That was hot," Alex decides to say. Rian blushes. "No, seriously. You just —" he shakes his head. "Way to somehow be punk at <em> prom.</em>"</p><p>Rian preens a little. "Yeah, well." He tilts his head. "Man. This <em> song. </em> What a song."</p><p>"Yeah," Alex says. They're at the edge of the dance floor but near enough to the people that they can blend in if they need to, and past Rian, Alex can see some of the students on the dance floor starting to realize that this is more of a slow-dance song. Couples — some familiar and some not — are swaying gently as the song plays.</p><p>Alex shifts on his feet. "Hey," he hears his own voice say, "um, hey, Ri…you wanna dance, maybe?"</p><p>Rian blinks at him. "Yeah," he says. "Okay." Then, "Except, uh, I don't think I know how to dance."</p><p>"How to slow-dance?" Alex smiles a little. He can practically feel his heart in his throat. "It's like the easiest thing in the world, you'll pick it up." Stepping closer to Rian, Alex puts his hands on his shoulders, and Rian stands there, kind of confused, until Alex huffs. "You put your hands on my waist, dude. Honestly. It's just instinct."</p><p>"Oh, sure, easy for you to say," Rian grumbles. "Drumming is just instinct too, you wanna try that next?"</p><p>Alex rolls his eyes. "This is it," he tells Rian. "Now we just sway."</p><p>"Sway?"</p><p>"Yeah, like. To the rhythm. Of the song."</p><p>The second verse is coming to a close as Rian gets the hang of it, following Alex's small steps with his own. At some point they've closed the awkward room-for-Jesus gap between them; Rian's arms are fully encircling Alex's waist now, and Alex's head is on Rian's shoulder. He's not sure when he put it there but he would rather die than move.</p><p>"That's it," he murmurs as they find a rhythm in the melody. Alex feels their steps sync up. "Jesus, loosen up. It's just dancing."</p><p>"Right," Rian says. He still feels stiff. "Just dancing. I know."</p><p>By the time the violin fades into the final chorus, most of the tension has drained from Rian's body, and Alex feels comfortable in his arms in a way he's pretty sure he's not supposed to. Like he belongs here. Like he and Rian fit.</p><p>He doesn't think they're supposed to fit, but he kind of doesn't care.</p><p> "Something unpredictable," Alex hums quietly, closing his eyes, "but in the end it's right."</p><p>"Well?" Rian asks in a low voice. It's barely audible over the music and the noise echoing around the room. "<em>Did </em>you have the time of your life?"</p><p>Right now, in Rian's arms, Alex can't imagine ever saying no to that question. "Duh," he says.</p><p><em> I hope you had the time of your life, </em> Billie Joe bids them as the song fades out. Alex picks his head up but keeps his arms around Rian's neck. He moves at the same time as Rian does, and their faces freeze just inches apart, gazes locked. The last two minutes catch up to Alex and he feels lightheaded; Rian’s eyes hold intense uncertainty but also profound hope. If Alex is lucky, he's uncertain and hopeful about the same thing Alex is.</p><p>But Alex is clearly not lucky, because just then, 'Hips Don't Lie' begins playing instead, and it's like an electric shock through them both.</p><p>Rian steps back, severing their connection. "Well, uh, thanks for teaching me," he says awkwardly. "Um, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."</p><p>Before Alex can say anything, Rian's gone, and Alex stares after him, cold everywhere Rian's arms had been.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
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</p><p>Alex deems the duration of one 'Hips Don't Lie' to be long enough to warrant concern before he goes in search of Rian. Knowing him, he'll be in the bathroom as promised; the boy doesn't have the presence of mind to consider that he could just go somewhere other than where he said he'd go. Alex checks the gym bathroom but it's just people hooking up — gross, Alex will never unsee that — so he sidles out of the gym and makes for the main floor bathroom instead.</p><p>And sure enough.</p><p>"Hey," says Alex. Rian's back is against the wall between the sinks and mirrors. His eyes fly open when Alex speaks. "Relax, I'm not gonna…"</p><p>What exactly Rian's afraid Alex will do is unclear, so Alex just swallows and finishes with, "I just came to make sure you were okay."</p><p>The collar of Rian's shirt is damp and his tux jacket is draped over one of the sinks. Either Rian's been sweating profusely or he's splashed water on his face. Or both. Could be both. Alex shrugs off his own cumbersome tux jacket and tosses it on top of Rian's.</p><p>"I'm okay," he says. "I — I think I just forgot, uh…for a minute. But I'm good now."</p><p>"Forgot what?"</p><p>Rian ducks his head. "Nothing. It's fine."</p><p>"Ri, come on. That's not fair. I was there too." Alex hesitates. "I — I felt that too, you know."</p><p>This silence is even more oppressive than the one with the anti-Green Day sophomore. Rian stares at his feet and Alex doesn't dare move closer. "There's not — there wasn't anything to feel."</p><p>"Uh, bullshit. There was. And don't say you didn't feel it too, 'cause I know you did. I could feel both of us feeling it. That's how strong it was."</p><p>"Dude," Rian says, very interested in the patterns of the bathroom floor. "It's an emotional song, it was an emotional moment, it wasn't — like, it wasn't an <em> us </em> moment."</p><p>Alex feels like he's going to disintegrate into sand. "Seriously?" he says. "Look me in the eyes, then. If you mean that, look me in the eyes and say it."</p><p>"Alex."</p><p>"If you can look me in my face and tell me that was nothing," Alex says calmly, "I'll drop it and we can pretend it didn't happen. I swear."</p><p>Rian lifts his gaze from the floor to the bathroom stalls, and finally he meets Alex's. Alex digs his teeth into his lower lip and waits, a challenge in his expression, a dare.</p><p>Rian's expression is desperate. "Was it?" His voice is small. "Was it something? Can it be? Would you even want that?"</p><p>A colossal weight lifts from Alex's shoulders. The space between them shrinks until it's zero, until Alex has his hands around Rian's neck, whispering, "I really fucking would."</p><p>He crowds Rian against the bathroom wall as Rian's arms once again claim their place securely around Alex. Everything about Rian is solid, reliable, strong; Alex feels extremely fragile in comparison. "Oh," Rian breathes. "Thank God."</p><p>Alex grins, forehead pressed against Rian's, hungry for every single second of this. He wants to draw it out but he's also dying to skip to the good part.</p><p>"Hey," Rian points out hoarsely, "you'll finally get that bathroom hookup you wouldn't shut up about."</p><p>Alex laughs. "Lucky for me, I only wanted to do that with you anyway."</p><p>Rian's laugh dies against Alex's lips when they meet. He tightens his grip on Alex until Alex thinks he might just break, and might not mind breaking at Rian's hands. There's vodka-spiked punch on Rian's breath — probably on Alex's, too — and the clammy heat of the gym still clinging to his skin, but he kisses Alex back for all he's worth, some of the desperation from before seeping into the kiss, the way Rian holds onto him like he's afraid to let go.</p><p>Alex just gives as good as he gets. He has no plans for ending this at all, so he just presses forward whenever Rian pushes back, keeping Rian flush against the wall. </p><p>In the rankings for Best Bathroom Kisses, it blows the number one spot out of the water.</p><p>Rian breaks the kiss with a quiet gasp that turns seamlessly into a laugh. "I can't believe this is how we're spending prom."</p><p>"Oh, shut up, you didn't want to come anyway."</p><p>"Well, I'm sure as shit glad I came now."</p><p>Good," Alex says. "So am I."</p><p>He smiles, and Rian smiles, and they're caught in the moment briefly before Rian drags Alex back in, but Alex's mind wanders a bit, as so often it does.</p><p>It's really about the moment just before the kiss, he thinks; the sharp inhale, the silent agreement to another person to trust that when he leans in they won't pull back, the promises made and kept in the space of a half-second. Alex could stay suspended in that moment for the rest of time and want for nothing.</p><p>Well. Almost nothing.</p><p>Rian is far too much of a good kisser to sacrifice.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. here's to tonight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well, anyway, cheers or whatever,” Zack says, holding up his cup. Jack obligingly clinks it. “To us.”</p><p>“Us? Like me and you?”</p><p>Zack had meant more like the band, but that works too. “Sure,” he says. “To me and you.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the merrikat half &lt;3 this part was inspired by nothing, just came from my brain when it realized merrikat and rilex can coexist. it happens roughly simultaneously to the first/rilex chapter</p><p>this one goes out to TL and melia for yknow merrikat rights &lt;3</p><p>title from all in by the summer set. i am begging you all to listen to stories for monday please do yourselves this favor</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Not to brag or anything, but Zack is pretty sure Towson’s prom is going to be better than this.</p><p>Anyway, it’s not <em>really</em> a brag because it’s not like Zack has any control over what prom is like. Also, he hadn’t planned on going. He doesn’t have anyone to bring, and he’d much rather come to Dulaney’s prom with his friends than brave the wall of largely-unfamiliar classmates that he’s sure will be in attendance at Towson’s. Even if that means he has to be Jack’s date.</p><p>Or maybe being Jack’s date is a bonus. Or. Something.</p><p>Jack seems to think that “date” translates to “personal possession/slave who is bound by law to stay glued to Jack’s side,” and he pulls Zack towards the drinks table the moment they enter the gym. Zack could correct him, but where would be the fun in that? He doesn’t mind being glued to Jack’s side. It’s not like he has anyone <em>else</em> here he’d want to hang out with, and Zack wouldn’t call himself a follower necessarily but he’s happy to follow Jack. It puts a smile on Jack’s face, anyway. That’s pretty important. That’s, maybe, the most important.</p><p>“Two beverages, please,” Jack declares as they stumble to a stop in front of the table. “Fill ‘em to the brim if you can.”</p><p>The teacher standing at the drinks table just shakes his head and fills up two cups of probably-spiked-if-Jack’s-word-is-good punch for them. Jack nods solemnly at the teacher and then looks at Zack, a glint in his eye as they step aside, towards the back corner of the gym. Over Jack’s shoulder, Zack can see the teacher watching them suspiciously, and he sighs.</p><p>“Are you enemies with every single teacher?” he asks.</p><p>“I try to be, yeah,” Jack says, grinning. “I don’t actually know that guy, though.”</p><p>“You just have one of those faces,” Zack tells him. “People just hate you on sight.”</p><p>“Fuck yeah I do!” (Jack is already a little bit drunk from their ambitious pre-game before showing up.)</p><p>“Well, anyway, cheers or whatever,” Zack says, holding up his cup. Jack obligingly clinks it. “To us.”</p><p>“Us? Like me and you?”</p><p>Zack had meant more like the band, but that works too. “Sure,” he says. “To me and you.”</p><p>“I like this toast,” Jack decides, then drains his drink. “Ugh, tastes like ass.”</p><p>Zack drinks his punch and nods. “I think it’s in the prom contract that the punch has to taste like ass. They can’t waste perfectly good punch if it’s just gonna get spiked.”</p><p>“True,” Jack says thoughtfully. His gaze skates over Zack’s shoulder and he grimaces. “I really don’t feel like dancing and I seriously fucking hate this song.”</p><p>“Let’s just leave,” Zack says. Jack frowns. “Not the whole prom but like — we can just walk around or whatever. You’ve never wanted to see the school when it’s basically shut down?”</p><p>“No, because I’m not a <em>nerd</em>,” Jack says, except he says it with affection and that patented goofy Jack smile. “But fuck it, whatever, it’s gotta be better than being in here. Fuck, it’s hot.”</p><p>“Strip, strip, strip,” Zack chants as Jack begins to remove his tux jacket. Jack immediately pulls an exaggerated seductive face. “You look like you’re having a face muscle spasm.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Jack says, tugging his arms out of the sleeves and jerking his head towards the doorway. “Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Zack has spent a decent amount of time at Dulaney, but most of that time has been in the history classroom. As a result, he is highly disoriented.</p><p>Jack is the most enthusiastic tour guide ever. “This is Alex’s, not our Alex, other Alex, Grieco, anyway this is Alex Grieco’s locker. We put a bunch of fake valentines in there on Valentine’s Day.”</p><p>“Nice.”</p><p>“Yeah, he thought it was funny. And it was. Fucking hilarious.”</p><p>“Hey,” Zack says, “where’s the art room? Hallway? Something?”</p><p>“Oh, this way,” Jack says, and leads the way with a bounce in his step, probably alcohol-induced.</p><p>Zack can tell when they’ve reached the arts hallway before Jack announces it. Paintings and sketches pinned up on the wall introduce it. They veer to the left and Jack hurries ahead to a door, beyond which lies a darkened room. Tables and art supplies are visible through the window in the door. Jack hopefully tries the door handle, but it’s locked.</p><p>“Fuck,” he says, making an irritated face. “Wait, there’s another door to the office. Teacher’s office.”</p><p>Jack brings them down a couple doors, and Zack expects this one to be locked also. He wouldn’t mind too much. Just to spend this time with Jack is enough, really. He likes Jack’s company, more than almost anyone else’s company in the world. Jack never minds when Zack thinks but doesn’t speak; he fills more than enough space for two with his chatter, anyway, and he can keep up an unbroken monologue for a long time. Zack appreciates that, as someone who prefers to listen.</p><p>He kind of thinks that he and Jack are well-matched, but that’s one of his unspoken thoughts.</p><p>To his surprise, though, the handle turns at Jack’s behest. Jack is evidently also surprised, but only for a half-second before he pushes the door open, throwing a grin towards Zack. “Let’s hear it for irresponsible teachers, yo!”</p><p>“Amen,” Zack says, returning the grin and entering the classroom. The door clicks behind them as Jack flicks the lights on. It’s pretty standard as offices for teachers go, a filing cabinet in the corner and a desk taking up most of the room. The desktop is free of any incriminating papers or anything else Jack could use to sabotage and/or cheat anyone with, but Jack isn’t looking anyway. He’s at the door to the art room, and this door handle also turns in his hand. Their luck this evening, Zack thinks, is improbable.</p><p>The art room itself is not that impressive. It looks like a normal art room; Zack’s not sure what he’d expected, or maybe he just hadn’t had any expectations, but his only reaction is <em>huh.</em> “So this is where the magic happens?”</p><p>“Yup,” Jack says, taking a jogging leap at one of the tables and twisting as he jumps, sliding backwards so his calves hit the edge. He carelessly tosses his jacket onto the back of a nearby chair and Zack follows suit. “This is where I painted Alex like one of his French girls.”</p><p>“You gotta show me that one,” Zack says. Glancing around, he grabs a chair and pulls it out to sit in front of Jack.</p><p>“You don’t want to see it,” Jack says, waggling his eyebrows. “If you catch my drift. Y’know what I’m saying.”</p><p>Zack rolls his eyes and grins. “No, I don’t actually know. Can you be clearer?”</p><p>Jack sticks his tongue out. “You can pretend to be mature but I know you’re just a dirty boy like the rest of us.” He lies down on the tabletop, arms outstretched in the air. “Why did we even come to prom?”</p><p>Zack had sort of wondered the same thing. “Tradition, I guess. It’s one of those things they tell you you’re gonna hate yourself for skipping.”</p><p>“Well, they say that about class, too, and I don’t hate myself yet,” Jack says. Zack refrains from pointing out that Jack, as a student still in high school, doesn’t exactly have the perspective to regret skipping class. It’s not like Zack has a leg to stand on. He skips class all the time. It’s more fun to crash Jack’s schedule and the teachers have long since given up trying to get him to leave. He’s good for Jack and they all know it; Jack is impossible on his own, but Zack grounds him. At least, he thinks he does.</p><p>Zack may be a professional enabler of bad habits, but he’d also like for Jack to at least pass his classes. It’s a delicate balance to strike but Zack is very good at straddling the line.</p><p>“Just an excuse to get dressed up, then?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack says dryly. “‘Cause I look so good in a tux.”</p><p>“You do.”</p><p>“Aw,” Jack says, swinging his legs and entire body around so he ends up on his stomach facing Zack, elbows propping up his face. “You too, honey bunches.”</p><p>“That’s the least dignified nickname ever,” Zack complains. “Can’t you at least say something normal?”</p><p>“Blah, normal is overrated,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Honey bunches is cute. You don’t want me to be cute?”</p><p>“You can be cute without emasculating me.”</p><p>“Hey! I would never emasculate you. I don’t know what it means but it sounds violent and sexual.” Jack thinks. “So actually I probably would do it.”</p><p>Zack snorts. “Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“Come on,” Jack says, patting the table next to him. “Get up. Lie with me. Watch the stars.”</p><p>Zack looks up at the ceiling. It’s bare save for random flecks of paint. “Very romantic,” he deadpans as he climbs onto the table. There’s something about Jack that compels Zack to do shit he wouldn’t do for anyone else. Also to say shit he would never say otherwise. He wonders if that’s a Jack effect or a Zack problem. Or both.</p><p>“Maybe we really should just go,” Jack says thoughtfully as they’re both staring up at the unremarkable ceiling. “Except this is kinda fun, right? It’s like we’re criminals. You can’t get arrested for going into an unlocked classroom, can you?”</p><p>“No? I don’t think so.”</p><p>“Well,” Jack sighs, “a girl can dream.” Zack chuckles. “Seriously, though. This is fun. We should do more adventures like this. Maybe if the band doesn’t work out we can become partners in crime.”</p><p>Zack closes his eyes — there’s nothing to see on the ceiling anyway — and smiles. “Doing what crimes?”</p><p>“Breaking and entering, mainly,” Jack says. “We’d hit all the biggest fanciest places. Steal super-expensive paintings and jewels and shit.”</p><p>“And you’d be Joe Pesci, of course.”</p><p>Jack laughs loudly. “Yeah, obviously. And you’re Marv. Daniel something. I forget his name.” Stern, Zack remembers. It doesn’t really matter so he doesn’t say anything. “We’d be better robbers than them, though.”</p><p>Zack faux-gasps. “Are you implying that Harry and Marv are <em>bad</em> burglars?”</p><p>“What the fuck is the difference between a robber and a burglar, anyway?” Jack asks. “And <em>no,</em> I’m saying we’d be <em>better</em> than them. Zack, they got fucked over by an eight-year-old. Repeatedly.”</p><p>Zack laughs. “But he was a supergenius eight-year-old.”</p><p>“You know what I was doing when I was eight? Probably, fuckin’, I don’t know. Learning to use the bathroom.”</p><p>“I remember nothing about being eight,” Zack declares. “Was probably annoying my parents.”</p><p>“You’ve never been annoying in all your eighteen years of life, shut up. I’m the champion of annoying my parents.”</p><p>“I can be annoying.”</p><p>“No you can’t,” Jack says, patting Zack’s thigh. “But that’s okay. I wouldn’t love you as much if you were annoying. There’s only room in this relationship for one annoying little bitch.”</p><p>Zack huffs. He likes Jack calling it a relationship even though he’s joking. That’s definitely a Zack problem.</p><p>“Robbers use violence, I think,” he says. “And burglars don’t? Or maybe that’s robbery and theft. Fuck. Never mind. I don’t know.”</p><p>“Should have paid more attention in gov class,” Jack says in mock-disapproval. “See, I bet <em>you</em> hate yourself for skipping now.”</p><p>“Nope,” Zack says cheerfully. “Had way more fun invading your classes. And I learned roughly the same amount.”</p><p>Jack pats Zack’s thigh again, seemingly without prompting. “I liked you invading my classes, man. Plus I think I learned more.”</p><p>Zack is positive that this is true. It sounds a little mean to say it so he doesn’t, but he’s thinking it. As with most things.</p><p>“You’re chatty tonight,” Jack observes. Before Zack can even begin to get self-conscious about it, Jack is kicking his foot against Zack’s and adding, “It’s cool, I like it. Gotta save some of my thoughts for the quiet days, you know what I mean?”</p><p>“You have quiet days?” Zack jokes.</p><p>“I meant your quiet days.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>“All my days are quiet days,” Zack says. “Basically.” <em>Except for with you,</em> he thinks. It’s true, but he doesn’t want to admit it. Jack can probably figure it out for himself anyway; he’s spent time with Zack both alone and in a group, and there’s no arguing that Zack is much better in conversation when he’s talking just to Jack.</p><p>“Well, tonight isn’t,” Jack says. “It’s a good thing. I don’t care when you’re not saying anything, but I like it when you are.”</p><p>Jack has maybe had too much to drink.</p><p>“Thank you?” Zack tries, unsure how else to respond to that.</p><p>“You’re welcome.” Jack hits Zack in the stomach lightly and says, “Hey, look. Orion.”</p><p>Opening his eyes, Zack follows the line where Jack is pointing at the ceiling. There are three flecks of paint more or less in a row. Zack grins.</p><p>“Name one other constellation,” he says.</p><p>The hand in the air in Zack’s line of sight flips him off. “Big dipper, bitch,” he says. “And little dipper. And, uh, shit, the dog? I don’t remember the name. Canada? It definitely sounds like Canada."</p><p>Zack nods, impressed. “I don’t know what one you’re talking about. Did Alex make you learn those?”</p><p>“He didn’t <em>make me</em>,” Jack says a little haughtily. After a moment: “He <em>made</em> me stargaze with him, and I am a good listener.”</p><p>That’s another thing about Jack: he <em>is</em> a good listener, when he wants to be. It’s not a fact Zack really takes advantage of, because between the two of them anyone can see the listener is Zack, but he knows Jack does it for Alex and Rian and Nano and basically everyone else who’s important to him. Beyond the theatrical, obscene exterior, Zack thinks Jack has one of the sincerest hearts of anyone he’s ever met.</p><p>“We should stargaze,” he says. “For real, not pretend in the fucking art classroom.”</p><p>“At prom.”</p><p>Zack inclines his head. “At prom. Yeah, no. We should go for real.”</p><p>“Would be pretty shitty stargazing if neither of us knew what to look for,” Jack says. “We could bring Alex along as a, like, stargazing guide. Like a tour guide for stargazing.”</p><p>Zack bites his lip, disappointed. He’d really just meant him and Jack, alone. Any way he can think to say that just sounds a little bit pathetic. He’s almost tempted to say it anyway, but that’s not really his style.</p><p>“Then again, he’d be a major third wheel,” Jack says. “Totally mood-killer. I swear to God, nobody can kill a mood like Alex. I’d go in for the kiss and he’d be like, <em>you guys want some water or something</em>?”</p><p>Zack laughs, although he is also thinking about Jack saying he’d go in for the kiss. Meaning what? “The kiss” that happens on a date? What other kiss would there be? Does Jack think this is a date they’re planning?</p><p><em>Is</em> it?</p><p>“I’m down if you’re down,” is what he finally says. But even Zack is human and he is not immune to the Jack Barakat Effect, so he caves. “Um, like as a date? Kind of thing?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack says. “I thought that was what you meant?”</p><p>It wasn’t. “It was,” Zack says immediately. His brain hasn’t quite caught up yet, but he knows that Jack can jump very quickly to conclusions, and if Jack is okay with making a date with Zack, then Zack is very much in favor. He’d love to go on a date with Jack. Even if it’s less stargazing and more just lying in the grass. He likes the idea of the kiss at the end. Or in the middle. Whenever Jack feels like it.</p><p>“Oh, cool,” Jack says. “Yeah then. We should. I’d like that.”</p><p>Zack’s not sure he would call himself shy, despite what many people have told him, but right now he feels shy. “Yeah. Uh. I — me too.”</p><p>Something brushes Zack’s hand where it’s flat against his stomach — Jack’s hand. Zack is grateful for how forthright Jack is. Their fingers interlace, Zack moving his hand so their arms lie between the two of them.</p><p>“So this isn’t a date?” he somehow says. The Jack Barakat Effect again. What the fuck is it about Jack that makes Zack want to spill all his fucking secrets? “‘Cause I’m pretty sure contractually it is.”</p><p>“We can’t have this shitty prom be our first date,” Jack complains. </p><p>“It’s not that bad,” says Zack. “We made the most of it. Broke into the art room, fake-stargazed…”</p><p>“Got drunk.”</p><p>“Sure, exactly. So it’s really a pretty good first date.”</p><p>“Well,” Jack says. “True. That’s true.”</p><p>Zack bites his lip. “But if you want the stargazing thing to —”</p><p>“You know, Zack, honestly, it doesn’t matter to me at all,” Jack interrupts, though not in a mean way. He kicks at Zack’s foot again and this time hooks it around his own. “The place doesn’t matter, bro. As long as it’s with you, I don’t really care where the first date is.”</p><p>“That’s pretty romantic.”</p><p>“I am extremely romantic,” Jack says. “Bitch.”</p><p>Laughing, Zack says, “I believe it.”</p><p>And the weirdest and best thing is, he really does.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>can u believe actually merrikat is the only thing that matters??? literally invented romance. anyway. i want to share that in researching minor details for this fic i discovered that nano is a huge nats fan so. keep an eye out. anyway fkdjfkslcdkkfj thanks for coming to my ted talk</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for joining me on this fun little prom journey where, despite having attended two high school proms, i completely discredited every single Actual High School Prom experience and just made it happen in the gym because i am problematic :) if you wanna come say hi i'm on tumblr <a href="http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/">@clumsyclifford</a>!!! that's all from me byeee</p></blockquote></div></div>
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